


In Phase

by Thedis



Series: Thais and Aphelios [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mount Targon - Freeform, Nonbinary Character, Other, Suicidal Thoughts, this is going to be extremely soft you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedis/pseuds/Thedis
Summary: By destiny or chance, the Weapon of the Faithful happens upon an injured young Rakkor. On the moonlit cliffsides of Mount Targon begins an intertwining of fates that will have to prove its worth as night by night, the Burning Ones close in on Aphelios' community.
Relationships: Aphelios/OC
Series: Thais and Aphelios [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726972
Comments: 22
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

☽ PROLOGUE ☾

It was the first snow of the season. The kiss of the cold against his cheek told Aphelios that soon, the Rakkor tribes would gather their Tamu and move from the open slopes closer against the mountain's flanks to seek shelter from the elements.

It would be quieter, then, safer, as everyone gathered around their fires and started to care more about sharing stories and food than exterminating corpse by corpse the heresy they so loathed.

He filled his lungs with the crisp night air, relished the way it passed his throat. Its touch did not lessen the poison's burn by much, but it sufficed to strengthen his resolve. Aphelios felt the urge to move.

Alune's "Gravitum" was nearly amused, and as soon as he could feel the solidity of the cannon against his gloved fingers, her brother was already firing it and preparing for the leap, then another, and another yet.

_"We must not forget ourselves, brother. Our every deed is to fulfill a purpose."_

A dash of pale against the still dark stone made him stop his ascent. Another well aimed orb of fateful shadow, and Aphelios felt the cannon dissolve into the night, but the way to the little ledge that had caught his eye lay free. His perception had not deceived him - a human body. Not a Burning One, nor were any in sight. Aphelios decided to investigate.

He was less than five steps away when the stranger startled awake from what seemed like a nap, and promptly recoiled as Alune let Severum fall into his hands. Back at him stared a pale face with wide eyes, framed with golden hair that had been braided around their skull. They appeared to be a little shorter than him, clothed like the climbers he sometimes found as shattered remains around the mountain's slopes as he scoured them for Solari patrols. Rakkor clothing, but if they intended to attack him, they certainly weren't any match for him in their position.

"Please don't kill me."

Biting back what he could still feel of himself, Aphelios hearkened to the whispers of the moon.

_"I know you don't want to. I... I do not know that you must."_

It was rare, to be met at once with Alune's insecurity and an opportunity for mercy, both uncommon occurrences individually. Aphelios would not waste them.

Smoothly, he lowered himself to one knee and held out his hand. _Can you walk?_

"I'll take that as a 'don't worry,' if you don't mind."

Soft fingers glid into his, their cold seeping through the fabric of his gloves. They must have been abandoned in the snow for longer than their humor betrayed. Now that he knew - or at least hoped - he would not have to kill them, Aphelios allowed himself to look at their face. Light skin, grey eyes full of relief, given expression by brows of darker shade than their blonde hair. There was something about them that he couldn't quite place, but he knew he didn't dislike it. In a way, they looked... Believable.

_"Aphelios."_

He cast aside his ruminations, focused on the pain and pulled the stranger to their feet, then caught them when they stumbled with an agonized groan.

"I'm sorry. If it weren't for the leg, I like to think I would have made for the next camp by now. I certainly tried." 

Wordlessly, Aphelios moved one hand to their flank and with the other hoisted up their legs so they were nestled safely against his chest and shoulder. The stranger suddenly turned much more restless than they appeared upset by their half frozen state or injured limb. 

"Y-you know what, maybe you should kill me. Just drop me off the ledge, it's likely not worth the trouble."

The pain slipped out of focus again, and this time it didn't return. Aphelios was once more alone with his consciousness, without Alune to guide him. Alune, who had not foreseen this stranger he had decided to save - for no reason apparent to him. He would have to do so using his own strength, and nothing else. It was best that he departed for the sanctum before it failed him.

The stranger held on to him for dear life as he navigated the nightly diorama of pattern-riddled cliffs and floating rock, each jump more tiring than the last. It was no use, he would have to take a break, even if it meant exposing both himself and his freight to Solari eyes. Though the connection with his sister was lost, the poison still screamed in the entirety of his body, clenching his throat and tearing at his muscles. 

Alune might have told him to leave them behind, to not risk his life and all that depended on it for an unknown in a world where his every breath was choreographed in his and his sister's orbits. The same orbits that had ordered him to kill against his will more times than he could count, than he wanted to remember.

Just this once, he would not take a life, neither with his blade nor with his indifference.

They found shelter on an island hovering in the air a good few meters from the side of the mountain with a smaller motionless satellite, little more than a boulder, of its own that cast shade on its larger sibling. In this patch of darkness, Aphelios set down the stranger and allowed himself to sink against a protrusion in the stone. Quick and uneven breaths rocked his body, the combined strain of the poison's bite and the kind of brute strength effort he had hardly been trained for. 

"Are you hurt?"

The stranger had leant over, their features riddled with worry that didn't leave when Aphelios shook his head.  
They hesitated for a moment, then reached behind them. Instinct acted in his stead.

They were strangely calm for someone with a dagger against their throat. 

"Have you ever had ibik milk?"

Their hand, reaching out to him, held a small bottle of smooth clay.

"There's not much left, but... It's good."

Aphelios hesitated, but withdrew his blade, slightly ashamed. The stranger gave him a lopsided smile.

"It's not poisoned, I promise."

With the sweet taste of the milk on his tongue, Aphelios started to realise the return of his senses. It pushed him through the haze of the pain, allowed him to notice the dashes of emotion that started to colour his perception again. He glanced over to the stranger, who looked quite pleased.

"Told you."

Aphelios returned the empty bottle with a nod. Perhaps he should have asked before drinking up - although a Lunari could have little hope to ever taste ibik milk in their life, he was not unaware of its status as a delicacy to the surface dwelling Rakkor. His companion didn't seem bothered, returned the bottle to their bag and regarded him with shy curiosity.

"May I know your name?" 

He tapped his bottom lip and shook his head.  
They scratched their arm and stared at the ground. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I, uhm. I'm called Thais."

Thais.

In lack of anything else, Aphelios nodded again and stood, once more holding out his hand for them to take. On their feet, Thais met his eyes, if only for a moment.

"You're not taking me back, right?"

He shook his head no.

A small sigh, and a sad little smile. 

"Good. Ready when you are."

☽◯☾

The night had long shed its youth and left the sanctum's atrium empty and twilit. In the moon's stead, the crystal lamps lining the walls now illuminated the domed hall. Their dim glow smoothed against the pillows and blankets on the stone bench circling the room and reflected lazily in the small pool set in the stone beneath the light shaft. An easy silence filled the air, too absolute to conceal any danger and warm with the presence of people sleeping nearby. 

Thais drank it all in with a thirst unlike any they had ever known - one that satisfied itself the moment it flared up, leaving them only with the desire to run their hands over the stone, feel its age, hear its stories in the friction of warm skin against cool rock.

Never had they been anywhere so odd, or familiar. 

They were happy to notice that the young man's breaths were now as even as his hold on their waist as he led them through the atrium, up a gentle flight of stairs and onwards through a net of dusky hallways. It had been obvious their unlikely savior had undergone considerable pain to escort them here, and so far they hadn't been able to figure out to what benefit to himself.  
Perhaps they would be proven wrong and ritually sacrificed or some such, but if someone had asked Thais if they preferred that death or the one in freezingly cold isolation on the cliffside, they wouldn't have needed to think twice. Ending up somewhere far from the world they had grown up to know hadn't come as a surprise, the stranger's elegant tattoos and clothing had made it more or less obvious that he didn't belong to the tribes or, for that matter, the Solari.

If anything, the journey here had been shorter than expected. Thais wondered if the tribes knew there was an entirely different civilization, however small, underneath their noses, but they had a hunch that if they did, the majority of the Rakkor wouldn't take kindly to its members. Whatever was happening down here didn't seem very in line with the Solari faith, and Thais wanted to know everything about it. If they survived, perhaps they would - it was much more probable than whoever held authority over this place declaring them free to go despite everything they had learned already.

The young man stopped their track of two in front of a door that barely deserved the title - it was more of a low stone arch, obscuring the space behind only through several layers of woven cloth, blues and purples of varying weight and pattern. A bracelet of golden beads flashed into sight as their guide - their captor? - extended his hand to part the curtain and stick his head through the gap, setting free a whiff of flowery incense.  
Without him noticing, a strand of his dark hair got caught against the fabric and tousled half his fringe. Thais' amusement was abruptly stifled when the silence was broken by the voice of a woman, smooth and deep, only slightly muffled by the curtain.

"Welcome home, Aphelios. I was wondering what kept you so long. Come in."

The young man pulled back, looked at Thais just for a moment and for the first time they saw his face up close outside of the darkness. The gentle light of the hallway yielded to the sharp cut of his cheekbones, traveled along his straight nose and found the curve of his shapely lips. Features as soft as silk and as hard as stone all at once.

Only his eyes broke the perfect symmetry of beauty and indifference - dark and bloodshot, focused and calm, yes, but alive with... Something more, something Thais desperately wanted to discover.

_Aphelios._

The inside of the room met them with more dusk and stone furniture. Straight ahead from the entrance stood a desk, its anthracite surface carved into elegant, seamlessly interwoven patterns unlike anything Thais had ever seen, and on the stool next to it sat a woman who made all of the refined opulence look plain. A crystal lamp set on the desktop painted light in broad strokes onto her dark skin, reflected in her brilliantly blue eyes and made it obvious that she had not expected her visitor to bring a guest. Swiftly but without haste, the woman stood, tall, all flowing, ornate silk, short white hair and dignity, and immediately looked down on the two of them. No doubt this was the person who would decide Thais' fate.

Thais shifted their weight fully onto their good leg and Aphelios let go of their arm, leaving them to the scrutiny of his superior. The woman mustered them once from head to toe, then looked back over to him.

"Who are they?"

Aphelios raised two fingers to his forehead, described a circular motion, drew them quickly in a horizontal across his eyes and finished the gesture by shaking his head.  
The woman regarded him with collected skepticism before redirecting her gaze to her captive. 

"They will still give us away to them if we let them leave, whether they mean to or not."

Her words came as no surprise, and yet, they made Thais' heart sink. They felt an urge to look at Aphelios, connect with him if only for a glance, as a call for help or at least a sign of empathy. Unsure of how doing so would influence the woman's choice, instead they opted to keep staring straight ahead.  
As if taking them up on their adamant demeanor, the woman took a few measured steps and halted directly in front of them, her eyes slightly narrowed in an expression that was inquisitive, regal, but not necessarily cold. Up close, Thais noticed her lower lip was painted a dark shade of indigo. 

"What led you here, child?" 

They swallowed, immediately hoping the woman wouldn't find their reflex indicated dishonesty.  
The floor under their feet felt brittle. 

"I was part of a group of climbers chosen to ascend Mount Targon before the first of winter. Two or three hours after we began the climb, I lost my footing, the rope snapped and I fell. I hit a ledge, but the impact twisted my ankle. I... I don't know what happened to the others."

Aphelios wasn't looking their way.

"He found me after a few hours and carried me here."

An empty silence that felt like anything but the few seconds it actually lasted held, and broke when the woman took a step back with a vaguely satisfied hum.  
Out of the corner of their eye, Thais could see her address Aphelios. 

"If it is not too much to ask, Aphelios, I believe we should consult Alune. I shall meet you there. As for you," added the woman, crossing the distance between herself and her captive, "you will come with me."

☽◯☾

Although the woman had assured Thais there would be guards outside, the chamber itself didn't look like a prison cell whatsoever.

Like everything in the compound, its lights were dim, and the stone floor strangely warm, so that when they pulled off their shoes, Thais found the contact natural, even pleasant. Sun knew they had been stuck in that fateful conglomerate of rags and metal for longer than could be comfortable in any way. It felt even better when they curled up on the bed which was small, but just large enough to be comfortable as well as expertly made. Here, every individual object appeared beautiful. Even in such a simple chamber, the woolen bedspread was generously decorated and masterfully woven, as if the people inhabiting this space had spent decades refining it one piece of craftsmanship at a time until the surroundings themselves had turned into a work of art.

All things considered, it was a good place to die.  
It would be a pity, of course, after everything the young man had put himself through to bring them here, and how abruptly they had been separated, without even a chance to thank him.

Aphelios.

In all honesty, they had never heard a more beautiful name - if it was indeed a name, and not a title. There was everything left to learn both about him and this new world that had been completely hidden from theirs until now.  
Actually, they thought as they let the warmth take their consciousness, dying now would very much suck.

Thais had a feeling that this was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thais takes their first unsure steps in an unfamiliar environment and meets new people along the way.

☽ CHAPTER 1 ☾

Thais wasn't sure what they had expected to rouse them from their slumber. Not the sun, certainly.  
Even half asleep, not fully remembering the peculiar events of last night, they could sense the mass of tons over tons of stone above their head like an echo of the mountain's weight upon their body. It reminded them they were neither on their cot back at home nor inside their dream, falling endlessly upwards in confused and panicked isolation while hundreds of indifferent faces watched them from the ground.  
The rigorous rapping on the thin stone plate that served as the chamber's door was quite welcome in comparison - even if it meant getting out of bed. 

Reluctantly, Thais peeled themselves from the snug covers, jumped on their feet and immediately collapsed. A searing pain had exploded on their ankle and flared up their leg, every muscle in their calve stung with fire and ice.   
Ah. So they had failed to remember something afterall.

"Just a moment," they forced through their gritted teeth as they pulled themselves up, using the bed as a support and their own sheer spite as fuel.

One hand ever connected to the furniture and walls, they hobbled to the door.  
A slight disappointment overcame them as they found themselves looking at an unfamiliar face, pleasant though it was. It belonged to a man, a good bit taller than Thais and probably a few years older, pale and red haired with just the shadow of a beard. Two crescent tattooes opened towards his brown eyes. He smelled just as clean as he looked.   
A pile of folded fabrics rested in his arm, a palette of unsaturated pinks and warm greys just like his own robes.

The man gave them a friendly, if slightly impersonal smile.

"I hope you slept well. My name is Cosmas."

"I, um. I'm Thais."

He held out the clothes, and Thais accepted them with a good amount of confusion. Surely if the garments were meant for those awaiting their own death, their fellow sacrifice would not be roaming the compound? 

"High Priestess Hypatia told me you would be aiding me with the children. Would you mind sitting while I take a look at your leg?"

Still baffled, they shook their head no and dragged themselves over to the bed. As their new acquaintance pushed up the right leg of their pants, it dawned on Thais that they would live.  
No regretful memories as they neared their end, no wasted last thoughts or anxiety facing the greatest unknown. Not yet, anyway. Letting a stranger examine their leg, awkward as it was, seemed a small price for all of that.   
They would get to say their thanks to Aphelios - and hopefully Alune as well. Whoever they were, they must have delivered the statement that convinced the woman from last night, presumably Hypatia, not to have Thais killed.

Of course, such aspirations could likely not be realised at this time - freshly pardoned, they had every intention to do what they were told for the foreseeable future. Nevertheless, they couldn't help but hope there would be some entertainment to be found in it. 

"If what I am told is true and you crashed onto a ledge, consider it a miracle that your ankle is not broken. Do not overdo it and it should be sound again in a week or so. For now," Cosmas stood, walked back to the door and returned with a pair of simple crutches, "use these. Let's show you around."

☽◯☾

The hot water raised veils of steam around Thais and numbed their thoughts with its heat as they desperately tried to sort through every place they had been in the past half hour. So many rooms, and they heavily doubted they had been shown everything of this subterranean 'sanctum', as Cosmas had called it. The quarters, the kitchens, the nursery, the infirmary and the bath, all locations that mattered to their new task as part of this small community of absolute strangers.  
Each of the rooms were akin to each other in their twilit air of security, refined ornaments and warm floors of bare stone. Despite the quiet prestige of high ceilings, circular hallways and ornate walls, life down here appeared simple in nature, confined for the most part to the inside of the mountain, and all the limitations that came with such topography. The culture, however, was no doubt as rich as it was intricate, and Thais longed for the day on which they would be admitted to the library Cosmas had mentioned.

Would it look entirely as strange to them as everything else here did, with books of stone or an obscure alphabet? Or would it perhaps be familiar, filled with tomes not so unlike those that Thais had read from in their mandatory childhood visits at the Solari temple? Either way, it had been much too long since they had had access to written knowledge, not to mention that no doubt, they would find the kind of lore down here that was most likely unavailable on the surface.  
If this was not sufficient motivation to prove themselves, they weren't sure what was. 

With considerable effort and a few pained hisses, Thais heaved themselves out of the basin, stumbling past the heap of their old clothes and the empty clay plate that had held their breakfast.

Everything had changed about the atrium since Thais had last seen it - the stone benches, the shallow basin, the pillows - all this remained the same, but now, the whole wide space was alive with children. Other than the colours they were wearing, the bunch of them didn't appear much different from the young ones of the Rakkor tribes that Thais was familiar with. Their little hands were just as pudgy, their pronunciation just as vague, and they tripped over themselves, toppled to the ground laughing or crying just the same. Their excited yelps and giggles floated into the darkness of the tall ceiling and were touched by the night air, filling the large space despite there only being a few dozens of them.   
A familiar tension climbed up Thais' shoulders. Children, whoever they were born to, lived in a world of their own and Thais had always felt too large, too old and too boring to be part of it.

Cosmas, however, made it look so easy that they perceived their own awkwardness as a grave failure - he was sitting on a pillow with a moderate crowd of small ones in colourful tunics surrounding him, smiling and talking in a calm voice now to soothe one's pain, in a silly one now to make another giggle. When he saw that Thais had entered the room, he raised his left to call them over, while his right gently shooed away the kids. 

Carefully as if a single touch might shatter a bone, Thais made their way through the playing children, and finally sat beside Cosmas with a bit of befuddlement. Their new acquaintance wasn't oblivious to this and raised an eyebrow.  
Thais scratched their arm, avoiding his eyes. 

"This might sound insane, but I would die for any of these kids."

Cosmas gave an amused huff, and tinted his voice with sarcasm.

"We shall see if you feel the same after you've witnessed what they're capable of. Hold out a moment, I will return before their break is over. You can get to know everyone during my absence."

Before Thais could object, Cosmas had gotten up and strolled away and out of the hall, leaving the newcomer clueless as to how to behave. Most children paid them no mind, a few paused their play to look over, and promptly turned away when Thais gave them the best forced smile they could manage. Things were going about as smoothly as expected.  
It didn't take a full minute until their paralysis was harshly interrupted by two increasingly shrill voices coming from two girls not too far away. 

Awkwardly, but determined not to let anyone get hurt, Thais followed the squabble to two young girls, about four or five years of age, next to a small pile of glimmering dust. One of the girls stood upright with her hands on her hips, the other, a bit smaller, cowered behind the dust pile and was crying rather heavily, shutting her mouth to do so quietly as soon as Thais approached.  
The first of the two whirled her head around, making her brown curls bob and stared at Thais accusingly out of large green eyes.

"Hi, you two. What's going on?"

The small girl opened her mouth, but the brunette was faster. 

"Kypara doesn't let me play with her castle!"

Thais, unsure where to look for a castle, ended up staring at the dust. Was that...?

"She broke it," sobbed Kypara, and met Thais' eyes, her own blue and overflowing with tears. Her hands were fidgeting with one ebony strand of her hair. 

The other crossed her arms, her small brow furrowing a little stronger.   
"What sort of stupid castle doesn't have a garden? And anyway, it's not fair that she can make a castle with her magic and I can't!" 

Feigning as much calm authority as they could muster, Thais went from their leaning position onto their knees to speak directly to the girl.

"What's your name?"

"Melissa."

"You know what, Melissa? I think you're both right."

Both girls gave Thais a look ripe with disbelief and scepticism, which they tried their best to ignore. Children really were capable of so much more than adults when it came to this sort of thing. 

"It's really not fair that some people get to use magic and others don't. But everyone gets something, and it seems you have an eye for castles. However, that doesn't make it okay to try and change Kypara's castle by force."

Melissa stomped her foot, creating a soft thump of the felted shoe against the stone.  
"But why not? I was making it better! 

Thais thought for a moment. 

"Do you like to make things? 

Melissa puffed out her chest. 

"I make really cute earrings!"

Thais smiled, genuinely. 

"That sounds delightful. Imagine if you had just got an idea for the best earring ever, a really pretty one with blue beads and real pearls."

"Actually," the girl drew out the word, "green is my favourite colour."

"Perfect, green beads then. So imagine you have those earrings and then I come and swap the green beads for, let's say, red ones without asking you, and you could do nothing about it."

For a moment, Melissa quieted as she focused on the fantasy, then she looked up, tears glittering in her eyes. Her knees gave in under her small weight and she slumped to the floor in a heap of soft fabrics and desperate laments about how she had hurt her best friend, and she could never make it okay again. Kypara all the while was frowning and looking away, cheeks still wet, still crying just like the other girl, only with less noise.

Hesitantly, Thais put their hand on Melissa's petite back, drawing what they hoped to be reassuring circles with their palm, and looked over at Kypara. Almost immediately the girl's pouty attitude fell, she got up and ran over to take her friend in her arms.

"It's okay, Melissa. I'm not mad anymore. Let's play again, okay?"

Melissa was hugging her back, still sobbing.

"B-but how? You worked so hard on that castle... And I... I..." 

"I have an idea," chimed Thais, and immediately both girls unglued a little to look at them. 

"Make a new castle, together. Kypara can make the shape and Melissa can make the plans. With a garden. What do you think?"

Melissa and Kypara looked at each other, then once at Thais, and nodded.

Shortly, Cosmas returned only to explain that he would take a seat to the opposite side of the hall to better overlook the playing lot, so that Thais was left to their own devices again. This time however, play seemed to be going smoothly, no intervention needed. When one of the older kids, about seven or so, fell hard on his knee during stick fighting with his friend, Thais was about to drop everything and hurry over, but his sister in arms was quick enough to raise him back to his feet and the two of them continued with undiminished vigor. Every now and then, a child would stare at them for a while, then quickly avert their eyes when they were noticed, feigning normality when there was clearly a general distrust that persisted towards the newcomer. Thais wanted to smile so as to put them at ease, but with every suspicious glance directed at them, doing so became more difficult. 

A little while later, Melissa ran over and lead them by their sleeve to admire her and Kypara's dust castle. It was a fine piece of architecture and Thais made up some stories about the place and its court with the two of them, until the girls tired of ballroom intrigue and romantic tournaments and demanded Thais let them braid their hair. Obedient, Thais soon sat and waited out two sets of pudgy hands rummaging through their locks and holding onto their shoulders as they discussed hairstyle options with the kind of professionalism only found in young girls.

"Your hair is so pretty," admired Kypara, audibly taken.

"It's like..." 

"Like spun gold!," declared Melissa, and her friend hummed in agreement.

"It's weird."

The interruption stemmed from a third girl, about a year or two older than the friends, black hair braided around her head. She had positioned herself with crossed arms right in front of Thais, and nothing about her countenance suggested she was the type of person who used 'weird' as a compliment.

Thais laughed awkwardly.

"You think so? I-"

"Shut up," interrupted the girl, and Thais did, taken aback by the child's forceful disrespect. It gave the girl the opportunity to step forward and stare up at them with an almost bored air to her vibrant brown eyes.   
"I don't think you're Lunari at all. You don't belong here." 

Once more, Thais blinked, and struggled for words.

"Leave them alone, Berenice!"

Melissa had leant over their shoulder, and Kypara quickly joined in after her friend. 

"Yeah that's right! Stop being mean to Thais!" 

This time, Thais' laugh was sincere and warm.

"Thanks, girls, but you don't have to defend me."

They leant down a little to address Berenice.

"I think you're better off talking to Cosmas, Berenice. He can explain it better than I can, I'm sure."

That way, they wouldn't accidentally disclose any information that wasn't meant to get out. Thais wasn't sure what Cosmas had been told to greet them, a stranger alien enough for a six year old to single them out, so naturally. Whatever it was, the nurturer would know best what to pass on to the children.

Berenice gave them one more piercing glare. Before she left to make her way across the hall, she turned over her shoulder one last time.

"I'm going to tell Cosmas to get you kicked out, just so you know."

"She's such an asshole," declared Melissa once the other girl was barely out of earshot. 

Thais frowned. "Are you allowed to curse?"

"She isn't," replied Kypara calmly and parted Thais' hair into strands. 

"Well, I should be allowed to curse about Berenice. She's always like that! Hey, what are you doing? We've got to brush them first!"

"No way. Their hair is really fine, see?"

Was hair such as theirs really as uncommon as Berenice had suggested? There were a few blonde heads among the children, if a duller, more silvery version of Thais' warm gold. But what about Cosmas? Granted, he was the only redhead they had met down here so far, but they hadn't met a lot of people to begin with, and to them, Cosmas certainly appeared to be born and raised inside this community.

Thais' pondering was cut short when they felt something warm and small crawl into their lap. They hardly had time to make eye contact with the little boy before he had curled up and was already dozing off.  
One or two years at most, frail, dark of hair. Was it even okay for him to walk around on his own? 

Melissa, keen as usual, was quick to notice the new visitor. 

"Oh, that's Timaeos. He can't sleep alone so he always stays with someone else. Isn't he adorable?"

Kypara nodded energetically enough for Thais to feel it in the hands that were now nimbly working through their hair.  
"It's annoying to stay still though."

"Then I am positive you will be happy to hear that the time has come to visit the kitchen for lunch."

Thais looked up to find Cosmas, who was regarding his two groaning wards with strict amusement.

"At least let us finish the braids!"  
Melissa's protests got a friendly sigh out of the man, who turned around instead, raising his hands to his mouth. 

"Alright, everyone! Lunch time!"

A chorus of annoyed comments and whooping was heard from the children, and Cosmas watched as the play groups, however begrudgingly, dissolved one by one.

"Grab your buddy and let's go to the kitchen in pairs of two, nice and orderly, yes? I do not want to have sister Kore telling me about another collision. Everyone age eight and above, keep an eye out, as always."

Dozens of pitches joined together. 

"Yes, Cosmas."

Almost naturally the children began to flock together, the older ones dissolving partner choice squabbles and taking positions at the beginning and end of the track.  
One little dark haired head poked out from the queue.

"Why are Melissa and Kypara allowed to stay back?" 

From the corner of their eye, Thais witnessed Melissa shooting a devastating glare towards Berenice, and had to suppress a chuckle.

"Why, indeed," mused Cosmas admonishingly, and crossed his arms for emphasis.

"There, all done." With a pleased huff, Kypara withdrew from Thais' head. Patting around their skull, they found that the girl had made one thick braid resting on their shoulderblades, and two slimmer ones that fell from behind their ears to their collar. It had been expertly done, the braids were smooth and did not twinge whatsoever, and wonderfully kept the hair out of Thais' face. 

"Thanks, you two. I'm happy to have such talented stylists."

"You haven't even seen it yet, silly", scolded Melissa and Kypara giggled. 

Under the watchful eyes of their guardian, the two girls took each other's hands and gave one last rueful smile to Thais.

"You look super pretty," Melissa declared, making her friend beam with pride. 

"It suits them very well," agreed Cosmas with a smile. "Now, off with you two."

"Can't we stay with Thais? I'm sure they can teach us much more than those dusty old priests-" 

"Melissa!" 

"Fiiiiine."

Thais grinned. "It's okay, girls. I will see you, uhm..."

"Tomorrow." Kypara sounded a little afflicted. 

"Right, tomorrow, and then you can teach me how to make these pretty braids."

Pacified, the two friends joined the other kids, ending their impatient chatter and starting the little caravan's journey towards the kitchens.

Thais and Cosmas looked after them.

"Oh sh- Timaeos!"

The little boy was still warming Thais' legs, breathing evenly as if nothing in the world was of any concern to him.

Cosmas only smiled, tugging at his sleeve.

"The children are headed back to their studies after their lunch, but Timaeos is too young. I already collected the other little ones for their naps while you were playing with the girls."

"Oh. Right. I suppose this explains why they weren't very enthusiastic about lunch."

"Speaking of which," Cosmas glanced towards the door the children had disappeared towards, "I should go fetch our own share. I have it nearby, if you would excuse me for another brief moment."

While they were alone, Thais observed the tiny frame curled up in their lap and considered Cosmas' words from earlier. Their attitude hadn't changed. Looking at Timaeos, Melissa and Kypara, or Berenice or any of the other children whose names they didn't know, there was just something inside their very being that... _knew_ that if necessary, Thais would lay down their life to keep them safe.  
Immediately, and without thinking twice. Neither age nor character played a role in this certainty.

Cosmas returned with soft bread, clear water and even a few berries. He neatly unpacked the bundle onto its cloth, and smiled when Thais thanked him.

"Do help yourself."

Thais picked up a berry between their fingers. It was green and firm, its skin nearly translucent, and tasted fresh and sweet at once, not at all as if it had been grown inside a cave. They let the flavor unfold on their tongue.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"I am a complete stranger to this place and everyone here. Why am I being trusted to look over your children?"

"For one, I believe that I could take you in a fight."

"Is... Is that the entire reason?"

Cosmas held their gaze for a few moments.

"I... Suppose it is better for you to know the truth than go on with only the Burning Ones' lies."   
His eyes dropped to his hands as he pulled a fine, curved dagger in one silver gleam and began slicing the bread with it. With every word that left his mouth, his pleasant face became more grim. 

"We are Lunari. At the core of our tribe is the worship of the moon in all its facets, its insight and its mystery, light and dark in phase. Your zealots prosecute us for this 'heresy', and for their blind destruction and the way their fire cleaves into the night, we call them Burning Ones."

Thais doubted that Cosmas was looking, but they nodded anyway. On the quiet, their brow had furrowed as they listened. The bread loaf was now cut into neat slices and robbed of an occupation, Cosmas' hands balled into fists. Shaking, they lay still on the stone, clasped around the dagger and nothing at all.

"Nearly a dozen moons ago," the Lunari continued, "a rare phenomenon integral to our faith led our community and many others out of hiding. The Burning Ones found us. In one night, a third of us was brutally slaughtered by the Solari as the others watched. Many of the murdered left behind children. That... is the reason I was given your help."

A silence ensued, grave with Cosmas grinding his teeth, and Thais truly bereft. 

"Is that why Berenice...?"

The thought loosened Cosmas features.

"No. Her parents are alive and well, Berenice is simply... Herself."

Thais allowed themselves a small smile that widened when the other adopted it.  
"She sure is."

A small pause.

"So, I assume that despite her efforts I will not be 'kicked out' ?"

"No," confirmed Cosmas and reached for a berry, "if we decide that you are a threat, you will be killed rather than released."

Thais grabbed one of the stone cups and took a sip.

"Splendid, thank you."

☽◯☾

The images of the day - the night, rather - had blurred into a soup of impressions, worries and anticipation, leaving Thais blank as they tried to recall their stay. It felt like their thoughts were ricocheting off the walls of the chamber to return to their head with the buzz of a thousand horse flies. Arms crossed over their eyes, the wild recollection still wouldn't cease. A thousand iterations of their own reflections of this strange, new realm with all its tunnels, crystal lamps and holy halls, the children of this world, and the tragedy that tied both of them together in blood. Over and over.

They had to get out.

Thais swung their legs over the edge of the bed.

Not entirely out, just somewhere else within this twilit microcosm. If it weren't for the…

"Guards?"

They placed their ear against the door.

"I need help."

No answer. Gingerly, so as not to alert the whole compound to their misadventure, Thais slid aside the door and stuck their head into the gentle lights of the corridor. The guards they had passed on their way back to their room had disappeared. Perhaps they were either on break or needed elsewhere.

Thais took a shaky step into the hallway, the pain in their leg ever present. It would slow them down, but they were willing to take that risk. The location of the baths, kitchens and anywhere else but the atrium and the quarters had drowned in the sea of information they had processed within the last few hours and left Thais with only the hallways as their destination, riddled, but emptied with the dawn.

Going undetected gave Thais something else to focus on, and controlling every muscle in their body to move as smoothly and quietly as they could filled them with a certain playful satisfaction. Within minutes, they felt their confusion began to dissipate into the dark, fall between the beats of their heart ringing in their ears. They could not say exactly for how long they wandered, perhaps a dozen minutes, perhaps even an hour. Finally, the maelstrom inside their mind calmed.

About halfway back to their own room, a strange noise made Thais freeze mid-step. They scurried around the next corner and hugged the wall, biting their lip as their leg cried murder for overexertion. There it was again, something between a pained moan and a stifled breath - and this time, closer. Thais sealed the air inside their lungs and prayed to the sun that whatever the origin of this strange sound, it would pass without discovering them.

Several lifetimes later, there was a heavy cough further down the hallway and the fugitive relaxed a little.  
A who, then. Perhaps a guard? If so, knowing where they were headed would make a safe return that much easier. Thais collected themselves and slowly, very slowly leant around the corner.  
Their back turned, the tall figure shakily made their way down the arched corridor, one hand ever connected to the wall for support. 

The ends of a light, vibrantly turquoise scarf bobbed rather than fluttered behind the limping silhouette, and Thais' heart missed a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, glad you're still here! Even with the very sparse info on Lunari society, I hope I can paint at least a little bit of a picture in this fic. If you like, let me know how you like the characters I've introduced so far - I'm always happy about feedback. Now that we've had some exposition I can promise the next chapter will contain more Aphelios and, accordingly, some fluff.  
> Thank you for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thais faces the consequences of their actions and receives a private lesson in dagger throwing.

☽ CHAPTER 2 ☾

  
Thais' thoughts came in waves.

One.

This room was new.  
They couldn't see it, but they felt it. The place they had been taken to possessed a presence that was as elusive as it was distinct, something hidden behind the tranquil cool of a vast space - and yet, a subtle, fresh kind of warmth was woven into the air.  
The unrelenting black that had covered Thais' eyes now thinned into a deep blue - only sunlight, however faint, was capable of such relief.

Two.

Wherever they were, they weren't alone. When the guard's grip on their collar gained momentum and they were thrown to the ground, they could feel eyes drilling into their back. Soft steps behind them faded into the distance as they tried their best to straighten. The fetters the guard had placed on them, obscuring their vision and binding their hands behind their back, made it difficult to keep balance. The young Rakkor nearly felt proud when they managed to kneel.

Three.

They were going to die.

An unfamiliar male voice cut the silence and extinguished their flow of thought in a heartbeat.

"Is this the barbarian?"

" _Thais_ is of the mountain."

"Silence, Cosmas." That voice... "You will speak when I address you."  
Hypatia, the high priestess. Thais recalled her alto, as even and composed as the night before, when they had first met. In the eternity that had since passed, her words had sharpened into claws a fully grown Bolor would have flaunted with pride.

Thais lowered their head and the harsh, new voice returned.

"The seer must have erred. Ever letting this savage near our children was a grave mistake. My little daughter told me of the corruption they were spreading amongst our young."

"Namely?" Cosmas scoffed.  
Hypatia's response his interjection was swift and final.  
"Leave us."

Thais' heart sank as they heard the rustle of clothing and fading steps. There had been no love in Cosmas' voice, but nevertheless he had been defending them. Now, they were well and truly alone.

"Their crime is clear, Alexios, do not attempt to blur it," the high priestess admonished, likely addressing the man from before. "It was the holy seer, and by her word the mother herself, who appointed Thais as a person of trust."  
Hypatia's voice gained an edge, and Thais was certain that her eyes were directly on them.  
"Two moonrises ere now, they were granted mercy and shelter by the will of the moon. Tonight, however, they repayed her faith with hubris."

Another voice, feminine, its cadence bent by age.

"Two sides to the moon, two sides to every truth. Choose your words wisely, Unseeing One."

Words?

There was nothing to say.  
Their transgression had been clear, and Thais knew what that meant.  
All hope for a future had turned to ash in their mouth.  
A single thought, a single wish clawed itself from their soul and screamed for a voice.

"Is he alive?"

The following pause was relentless.

"He is none of your concern, nor are you his." Hypatia's voice had become dangerously empty.

The abrasive man - Alexios - gave a dismissive snort.  
"The animal is feigning selflessness. It seeks only to save its own hide with this charade of compassion."

"Then why call out to the guard in the first place?" the old lady demanded to know. "The Unseeing One could have returned to their room. Instead, they surrendered their life to save one of ours."

"Polyxene had returned to her post since then. The Burning One must have seen her and decided to take advantage of the weapon's suffering." Alexios snarled. "Who knows, maybe they saw him close to breaking down and decided to put the boot into him themselves?"

Thais bit their lip.  
There was no way the Lunari wasn't being ridiculous on purpose. If this hackling was to seal their fate, at least they would die infuriated rather than scared.

"Our resources are sparse as it is," Alexios added. "Why should we go hungry to feed a _barbarian_?"

The murmurs bouncing around the room made Thais' stomach turn.

"Enough." Hypatia's authority rang loud enough to silence the chatter. "The weapon's condition does not allow us to consult the moon, and time is of the essence. Where there is shadow, there is light. Where there is light, there is shadow. The Unseeing One broke their promise, but saved the life of our last hope. They will atone with their labor - far from the children."  
The rustle of cloth against stone implied Hypatia had risen from her seat.  
"Lastly, this. The weapon of the faithful is not to be distracted with who is responsible for his survival. His pure, undiluted skill is needed now more than ever."

All air left Thais' lungs, the fists behind their back opened and brushed the floor as their body let go.  
They would live.  
Once again, they would live.  
Was it possible to get used to this feeling?

  
☽◯☾

By the time they greeted the evening, the elation had died down considerably. Thais had slept as tightly as the stone surrounding them, and yet their dreams remained upsetting and too close for comfort.

They could have made no other choice than to alert the guard. Thais couldn't imagine watching anyone bleed out while standing idly by - but to give up the life Aphelios had saved to preserve his own had felt right in more than one way.  
As much as they wished for him to be happy and sound, part of them was glad they had gotten a chance to repay their debt. Now - what held them here?  
There was no doubt that Thais was not wanted in the sanctum. Every second they kept intruding on the community, people feared for their young.

A dark speck by the door, about the size of a small shield, caught their attention. Had they overlooked it after their playtime with the children or had it been brought while they were sleeping?  
They had kissed the possibility of going back to bed goodbye, but the evening was still young, still golden. Perhaps there was time before their new work began.

The speck turned out to be their climbing attire, neatly folded and as clean as could be expected from practical clothing which had seen its fair share of contact with the mountain and its many dangers. Thais patted the torn fabric with a double-edged melancholy.

This was who they were, who they had always been.  
The slopes of Mount Targon were their home.  
Thais had been raised to find purchase on cliffs that appeared unclimbable, to tell medicinal herb from poisonous blossom among the hardy flora, to spot creeks for the Tamu to graze by from great distances by a single shift in the rock.  
They had grown up braving the mountain with every breath they drew, and when the time had finally come to conquer it, they had failed. Failed themselves and everyone who had ever believed in them, failed to honor the sun who had given them life.

Assumed dead and disgraced - nobody would come looking for them now.

As they brushed out the tunic, something hard and pointy stubbed against their little finger. Could it be...?  
Thais hastily unfolded the garments and held up a small wooden frame, shaped like a shallow box with a hole in its back. The pocket loom their grandfather had carved from driftwood, and their mother had taught them to use.  
Its strings had been removed, likely out of fear that the prisoner might use them as a weapon, but feeling the smoothness of the wood, running their skin over the numerous vertical grooves brought a comfort that Thais had not felt in a long time. A small piece of the home that the Rakkor desperately wished they still had.  
Funny how you forgot about these little anchors until you suddenly wound up needing them.

Thais held the tool in their open palms a while longer, then stored it inside their pocket to await the arrival of the guard.

Their leg hurt.  
It hurt so much.

  
☽◯☾

Aphelios awoke to his own company, like he always did, always had for a long time. The bed, though not his own, was familiar as well, and it took him only a heartbeat to recognize the alcohol and herb laden air of the infirmary.  
His head was like cotton, and as impossible as it seemed to form a clear thought, he was wide awake enough to observe himself fail at the attempt again and again.  
Without sleep as a means of escape, Aphelios gathered himself and took in his closer surroundings.  
To his right he could see his bracelet resting on a stone nightstand, but when he tried to reach for it, a pang of agony cut into his side, making him grimace.

Shaking, his hands found the bandage, felt the tight cloth and the heat radiating from it.  
Dry, for now.

"Did you rest well?"

Hypatia's silhouette cut elegantly into the light streaming in from the infirmary main hall.  
Aphelios wasn't sure what to say, but he knew attempting speech would mean more pain. Even if he tried, he doubted he could force a single word past his lips.  
The priestess, however, didn't seem to expect an answer and instead glid over with long, fluent steps, pulling up a stool to gracefully sit at two arm's lengths from his bedside.

"These situations are much too frequent, Aphelios. I know I need not remind you of your responsibility."

Aphelios shook his head.  
She was right, of course. His blunder - his pride - had been inexcusable.

"Good. The Solari have been inching closer and closer with each skirmish, their numbers growing. You felt it yourself last night."

They had been many, and fierce, spears that cut and bit and burned and never ceased, no matter how many of them he slaughtered in his mindless lethality.  
Hypatia closed her eyes as if in silent prayer.

"But mother moon has given us you. It is by you and your sister that we are not yet lost. The Unseeing you brought in seems to have proven themselves the way Alune promised."

Aphelios looked up, and the priestess met his gaze, registering his response with uncompromising calm.

"They were apprehended outside their cell last night. With this, your sister's endorsement is spent, but I have decided to keep them alive for now, as our ressources are sparse. They will be transferred to a more secluded environment that will put their hands to work and their loyalty to the test. More accurately, I shall pick a capable warrior who will."

Hypatia stood to leave, but Aphelios stopped her with a cough, the best he could do in this state. There was no need for words, really. The priestess frowned as she caught the intensity of his gaze, disapproval, but surprise as well. Only once before had Aphelios asked for something.

He pointed to his injury, put his palm on his sternum, then slowly walked his right index and middle finger over the back of his left.  
I'm taking it slow.

Hypatia's frown deepened. Calmly, she turned away from the door to meet his eye.

"Who are you, Aphelios?"

Aphelios brought his hand to his sternum, to his palm, to his forehead, the way he had many times before.

I am the weapon of the faithful.

Hypatia finally nodded. "Do not overexert yourself. You are all the hope we have."

He watched her leave.  
When he was alone once more, Aphelios dropped back into his pillows and gave the ceiling a good long stare.

'The weapon of the faithful' - without Alune, he was _nothing_.

The thought of his sister inevitably came with the same words she had always told him since they had barely grown out of childhood: You're never alone.

Aphelios didn't like to think on these words and the conditional truth they held.  
For every desperate rush of pain, death and moonlight as Alune's spirit passed through his hollowed mind, there was an eternity of petrified isolation inside his room. Weeks in which he never so much as spoke a sentence with another person and did very little, silent, disoriented and lost, skimming what remained of his conscious for something he was unable to name - all in between sessions of rigorously automated training he drew out until the storm inside his mind had quieted.

Once, only once had Aphelios taken the noctum for the sole purpose of speaking to Alune. He remembered coughing blood onto the floor as the poison burned through his innards, and Alune's muffled crying somewhere in the back of his head.  
He had never done it again.

_You are the weapon the Lunari need._

The young man raised his fingers before his eyes and turned them in the light, eyeing the callouses, scars and fresher cuts. Treating the noctum had dyed his fingertips slightly teal, and there was a faint smear of blood underneath his thumb that medics and healers must have overlooked.  
Suddenly, he felt tired.  
With careful movements so as not to open his wound again, he turned onto his side and adjusted the pillow in a way that his neck wouldn't hurt when he woke.  
He had barely recognised his own hand without the glove on.

☽◯☾

Thais could still feel the guard's heel in their back. Brought low, their palms burned where their skin had scraped against the rough stone.  
Run-down cleaning tools quickly followed, the water bucket nearly spilling completely onto Thais' thigh while the bottle with polishing compound sustained a serious crack. After an apathetic instruction to use the blindfold as a cleaning rag, the Rakkor had found themselves alone inside a chamber that scorned the word with its dimensions and splendor. The armory was everything Thais could have imagined - majestic, at least thrice as tall as them and filled to the ceiling with an effulgent arsenal of sharp metal objects. Even the sockets holding the glowing crystal were pristine and pointy, pouring light into the shallow crevices that patterned the walls and ceiling - which flowed into each other without any hard edges - as well as the floor with the same concentric designs Thais was beginning to register as impartial to Lunari art, and nigh inescapable within the sanctum.

There was something of a relief to their new occupation, at least - their new wards had little chance of making them feel awkward. Putting polishing materials to their best use would take practice, but at least nobody would look at them funny while they figured it out. Nobody would laugh, either, or tell them about their troubles, or braid their hair.  
Thais pushed the thought aside and, although the white-hot pain in their ankle had them grimacing, heaved themselves up to acquaint themselves with their new company.

Like everything made by Lunari hands, the weaponry surrounding them bore barely any resemblance to the smithing work the Solari put their pride in. Blades of all sorts and sizes, a lance or two, even an ornate little buckler, everything gleamed silver and was of such elegance that Thais was left in curious awe.  
While some of the areas inside the hall seemed crowded, lining the circular wall there were little alcoves displaying particularly ornate pieces whose slender lethality was accentuated by coloured silk flowing from the ceilings above it. The remaining equipment, resting on stands and leaning on boxes, seemed to keep a distance to their podiums out of respect.  
Opposite to the entrance, far across the room, one of the niches begged investigation with its emptiness.

If only Thais hadn't been so tired.

Surrounded by weapons, the young Rakkor remembered the days when their mother would be called on by the Ra'Horak needing an additional hand at the forges. Months later, Thais would at times recognize the details their mother had crafted on a passing warrior's spear or pauldron. Her work was always functional, but there was a certain unfinished touch to it, betraying their mother's lack of enthusiasm for any art that was unconcerned by language. Their own excitement about a secret library would have easily been dwarved if their mother had been there to hear of it as well. They could practically hear her voice, clamouring about this or that linguistic phenomenon in the honest attempt to teach her child, but getting distracted by the topic itself over and over.  
Thais felt unsure on their feet.  
Careful not to lose balance, they bent down, reached for the rag and got to work.

☽◯☾

It had been years since Aphelios had heard someone else's crying, and the unexpected situation was enough to stay his feet. To his own surprise, he found there lay a strange comfort in the sound, something so human it made him feel almost... At home. The sensation was so vivid that part of him wished to remain hidden in the shaded staircase and listen for just a little while longer.  
Not the most tactful of conversation starters, he suspected - and he did want to help. He just didn't know how.  
Phel braced himself and descended the last few steps into the armory.

Thais looked small, on the floor and bent over their cleaning rag with a forest of metal looming over them. He imagined the caretaker's clothing that had replaced their dirty climbing gear might have lent them an air of competence the night before. Now, it seemed insufficient to protect their quivering body from the harsh world around it.

Even in combat, the only way he knew to protect was to kill, to eliminate threats, and this was not combat - this was something far less familiar. He was helpless. Strangely, seeing Thais like this tugged at his chest, a small pain, less than trivial measured against the noctum's torture, but in this moment it mattered to Aphelios more than any poison ever had.  
What was he thinking? His task was to check on the prisoner, see if they were doing their work and subdue them if they fell for the bait and tried to harm him with one of the weapons at their disposal. Any further communication was unnecessary.

The sobs shaking their slender back subsided, and they lifted their head to look up at the intruder. For a split second, their gazes collided. Thais' eyes widened as they recognized him, then they turned away, scrubbing the tears of their cheeks with the sleeve of their tunic. The young Rakkor sat up and smiled weakly at Aphelios. Most colour had fled their face, lingering only in their lips and eyes. Against the puffy skin, their irises appeared starkly green. Fatigue was written into their every feature, and yet the interplay of warm and cold colours lent them an air of both vulnerability and pure, unyielding strength.

"Maybe I should start getting used to you appearing out of nowhere," they teased, their voice hoarse with shed tears.

The Lunari didn't quite know how to respond, so he didn't, he only descended the stairs. The two of them were now more or less at eye level - Thais, however, avoided his gaze.

"What brings you here?"

Aphelios relaxed a little, grateful, to a point, that Thais was directing the conversation away from the source of his insecurity. He wasn't crazy about it, but he understood. These were their worries, and he had no right to them.

For the time being, he seated himself on the floor beside the Rakkor, taking care to keep a proper distance and avoid sudden movements. His gesticulation indicated their cleaning tools, the surrounding artefacts and his own eyes.  
I am meant to review your progress.

"Oh. Understood." The Rakkor gestured at the west end of the room. "I'm done with most of this section, except for those weirdly shaped daggers. I don't know what they're for. Throwing, I assume."

Phel grinned, a nostalgic feeling, as if part of him had forgotten how to smile. Raising his index and middle finger, he pointed at Thais, then at himself and nodded upwards.

You. Me. Let's go.

Thais raised an eyebrow, hesitantly reciprocating with a smile.  
"Is that a challenge?"

Phel nimbly leapt to his feet.  
Let my actions be the answer.  
He knew every nook and every cranny of this room, had wielded every blade hundreds of times. Throughout his training, he had probably trashed more of these same throwing daggers than still remained. They couldn't have moved too far since he had left them.

☽◯☾

Thais wouldn't have thought it possible for Aphelios to look this excited. From the way he combed the thicket of gleaming metal, it was obvious that he had done so before, more than once.  
The Lunari uttered no sound of triumph other than an exhale laden with satisfaction as he lifted up a strongbox from behind a stand stocked with trim spears.  
  
"Ah, you found them," Thais stated with some excitement, recognising the box from earlier - silver with nacre inlays, much too opulent to be forgotten.  
"I found something, too. Will this do?"

The Rakkor presented a tightly packed pillow with a wooden foot that had been stashed away right against the chamber's wall, behind a good amount of scimitars and glaives. Three concentric circles wrecked by various traces of aggression were painted on its center, and although the symbols used by the Solari were much more spiky, Thais recognised a target dummy when they saw one.

Aphelios awarded their effort with a nod, and helped them drag the dummy out into the open. Thais couldn't help but notice again how fine his clothing was - shimmering purple silk, lazily reflecting gold and perfectly fitted, supple leather. In here, where nearly everything was shiny and elaborate, he managed to blend in, but imagining the well dressed young man among the wide, rocky fields and roughly hewn cliffs of Mount Targon felt almost inappropriate.  
The more Thais tried, the more did Aphelios remind them of a jewel, deeply beautiful, but foreign and cold.  
And yet, he was right here within their arm's reach, and they were starting to believe his coldness did not run as deep as one might have assumed.

The two of them established a distance of about eight steps between themselves and their target before Aphelios knelt to offer Thais a dagger from the box. Two gloved fingers held the blade pressed between them so that they were presented with the handle.  
The Rakkor shook their head.

"You go first."

Aphelios nodded and assumed position, right foot first and carrying his weight, while the rest of him maintained an upright, relaxed poise. His dark eyes were trained on the target as if the dagger in his right, which he held a few inches from his chin, was all but irrelevant. For the fracture of a heartbeat, his slanted eyes narrowed, then, a light shift forward, a single flick of his wrist and a dash of silver shot through the room. The dagger hit the dummy square in the middle of the chest with a surprisingly hard thump.

"Wow. No quarter, huh?" Thais marveled, blinking a few times for effect. They had forgotten how much stronger Aphelios was than he looked.  
The Lunari regarded them with a faint grin and went to retrieve the dagger for them. This time, Thais accepted the slim blade, weighing it in their hand as they did their best to mimic Aphelios' stance.

It was tough, as they had to count their right leg out of the equation entirely or collapse, but they felt an unexpected ambition to do well enough for Aphelios to be at least a little impressed. It granted them all the motivation they needed.  
They pushed the pain out of focus, felt the dagger's center of gravity and took one last, deep breath.

A high pitched metallic wail echoed through the chamber, and both Thais and Aphelios instinctively ducked as the dagger bounced off a pauldron - not even in the remote vicinity of the dummy - and propelled itself into some unknowable hiding place among the equipment.

When it had disappeared and a few seconds' caution had passed, the two of them straightened and Thais watched Aphelios gawk after the maverick in utter disbelief, wishing almost genuinely they had perished on that cliff two nights ago. Perhaps, if they went for one of the swords while he was distracted, they could put an end to their own chagrin without intervention.

After a moment, the Lunari's befuddlement faded and gave way to a smile, a real smile, that widened and finally broke.

Aphelios laughed.

It was not a sonant laugh, no chime or anything comparable. It was dry and raspy, and after a few pulses Aphelios winced, his features contorting in pain.  
And yet - Thais would gladly have endured worse than embarrassment to hear it again.

Aphelios, still grinning, made away with all such plans when he kicked up a dagger, caught it from the air and offered it to Thais as if doing so was the most common thing in the world.  
Betraying as little as possible of their astonishment, they thanked him with a nod and tried again to replicate his stance. If he wished genuinely to teach them, they would have been a fool to refuse him.

The Lunari stepped behind them, and Thais' concentration faltered. Was this... Warmth against their back? Leather brushed linen as his fingers clasped their elbow every so gingerly, directing it with a mere suggestion of a tug. Their heartbeat began to pick up - stupidly, unsolicitedly - and Thais frowned in their best attempt to regain focus, praying he couldn't hear it.  
Aphelios remained silent, communicating only through his touch.  
His left arm joined with theirs, muscle against muscle as he anchored their posture with his own. Then, as the softest of breaths tickled Thais' shoulder, he went low.  
They moved with him without even needing to think, felt the shift in their weight, their body coming to rest in itself, liberating their arms and clearing their head of any obfuscating stiffness.

He was _good_.

Colder air brushing their spine suggested Aphelios had backed off to give them the necessary space.  
The target stood across the room, hapless and clear in their sights as it would ever be.  
They inhaled, smelling stone and metal and skin, exhaled, breathing out tension and doubt, and finally raised their arm, knowing their aim to be true -

Thais' leg gave in.

Everything became motion, then pain, erupting from their shoulder blade and knee. The cacophony of metal and stone hit Thais' eardrum mercilessly after a short delay, and the first thing they came to realise about their new situation was that by some luck, none of the daggers' blades had found their way into flesh despite Thais tumbling directly into their box and scattering its contents.  
Their ankle burned exquisitely nevertheless, chasing agony up their thigh in a torturous hunt and feeding on the weakness it left in its wake.  
Understanding they had zoned all of this out in the first place, Thais would have taken pride in their own tenacity, but fighting desperately not to scream had them fairly occupied.  
Aphelios hurried to pick them up, but they shoved his hand away, as mildly as they could manage with their leg about to burst.

"Don't," they ground out between their teeth. "You're hurt..."

As Aphelios stared at them, eyes wide and black and frozen, it dawned on Thais that he hadn't mentioned his injury even once.

☽◯☾

It had been the guard carrying them back to their quarters, the same one they had called on last morning, the same one that had kicked them down the stairs. For once, Thais had been gracious beyond words that Aphelios had kept quiet. The woman, whom they recalled as Polyxene - tall, red haired and seemingly consistent of nothing but muscle and grim determination - would likely have ended their life then and there given any reason to suspect Thais had accidentally sang out.

It was hard to tell if he had kept their secret on purpose, or if Aphelios had simply not put two and two together yet. Hopefully the latter, and hopefully things would stay that way. Thais felt they wouldn't mind a few days without their life expectancy suddenly plummeting.  
Now that they were alone again, comfortably stretched out on their linens, it was inviting to assume the best - but if they wanted to live, they had to resist that temptation.

Forgetting had been easy, so easy, surrounded by laughter and warmth, but no matter how they turned it - they were being held against their will.  
Even if they played by the rules and survived, perhaps even earned their freedom one distant day - they did not belong in the sanctum. They were here on borrowed time, breathing borrowed air and eating borrowed food - not borrowed, _stolen_ from the people that Thais' own community persecuted and massacred. To the Lunari, they were exactly what Alexios had painted them as - an enemy, a parasite - and nothing but.

With the tribes, they had a family.  
Their parents had scarcely ever covered themselves in glory when it came to putting religion first. They might have taken Thais back despite their failure, perhaps even granting them another chance at the pilgrimage.  
Thais remembered the noise with which the dagger thrown by Aphelios had driven itself into the target dummy. One shot, one kill. One dead nonbeliever. One cold face in which Thais might have recognized a childhood friend, an acquaintance, a parent.  
Aphelios' profession was no secret.

Winter crept down the Rakkor's spine as they fished the dagger out of their pocket and turned the shimmering blade in their hand. It had been easily slipped out of sight when they had been factually covered in the thin, silvery things. Reluctantly, they admitted holding a weapon made them feel a little safer, even though the promise coming with its possession issued a clear challenge.

Not him, never.  
Not anybody, really.  
Someone who could take it, for a moment in time that could buy them freedom.  
Cosmas' face kept popping up.  
Thais imagined themselves driving the dagger into his arm, his leg, anywhere - and immediately recoiled at the thought.  
With newfound disgust, they picked up their dubious bounty by the heft and set it on top their nightstand, then rolled on their side and curled up as tightly as possible, the Lunari weave brushing their cheek.

Cosmas, Berenice, the guard kicking them in the back, the cold weight of the dagger - they were all drowned out by the memory of Aphelios' laugh, raspy and true and full of joy. It swallowed them whole like golden wool, and left Thais feeling a little less alone. Their leg still made their waking moments hell. It'd need time to heal.  
They found themselves wishing, dangerously, that there was something to be made of the nights they would count until their escape.  
As soon as they called this hope by its name, Thais knew they should let it go.

Instead, they held on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a LOT of reviewing and changing stuff around, here it is, at last - Chapter 2! This turned out way shorter than I'd anticipated, but hey, finally some interaction! Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your support means more than you know.
> 
> If you feel like a little more visualisation, I also drew Thais and Aphelios:  
> https://the-flying-beetle.tumblr.com/post/620042244511186944/some-self-indulgent-aphelios-my-oc-thais


	4. Chapter 3 (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thais and Aphelios reflect on their past month.

☽ CHAPTER 3 ☾  
INTERLUDE

It had been one moon, and Aphelios could feel himself beginning to change.

The first signs had barely been noticeable, nothing but vague shifts somewhere in the liminal separating his body and mind. When the hunters managed to track and slay one half of the pair of roaming Bolor and the kitchens prepared their bounty, he had sent for seconds - something he had never done for as long as he could remember.  
Two days ago, he had taken a _nap_.

He lived his life just about the way he had for the better part of it - alone and single minded, splitting himself between missions, training and nightmares - but things weren't the same. The winter's cold didn't sting as much, the soreness after his training didn't last as long as it usually did, the nightmares lost their edge. Everything was a little more... Okay. And so was Aphelios.

At first he had suspected some change to his sleeping schedule or diet. The cooks had disproved one theory, reviewing his habits the other.  
After a good few hours wasted with fruitless theorising, he had given up and made his way to the armory to check up on Thais - and everything had become clear rather quickly.

That night, he had found them mustering a little wooden frame he had never seen before with an expression that he found similarly unfamiliar and endearing as the item that had incited it. Thais didn't jump this time, only beamed up at him, and Aphelios felt at ease knowing he had become an expected guest rather than an upset to their routine. As was his habit now, he lowered himself to the ground next to them and pointed at the frame, one eyebrow meaningfully raised.  
The Rakkor had put themselves on the defensive first, the way they usually did.

"It's okay for me to have this, I think. They gave it to me with my old laundry."

Aphelios nodded, and a small pause ensued.

"I didn't get any string, which is unfortunate, but understandable. Wouldn't want me strangling anyone."

The notion appeared to be ridiculous to Thais, judging by their chuckle - tense as it was.  
An inquiring tilt of his head, a tentative brush of his thumb along the wood, and they had opened up with something akin to relief.

"It's a loom. I used to make tiny tapestries on it when I was a child."

They returned his smile, only for a moment, then looked back down, wistful fondness overwhelming their eyes as they ran their fingers over the same spot Aphelios had touched seconds ago.

"Tamu, flowers. The sun and the sea."  
A bright chuckle reached their eyes and did something to Aphelios' stomach.  
"Some fantasy pet I dreamed up for myself." Thais met his gaze and grinned. "Needless to say, that one sucked."

The next night, Aphelios carried a bag with the finest thread the weavers had been willing to part with, leftovers and less frequently used colours in all kinds of shades. He had gently dropped it in Thais' lap with a note, feeling his heart pick up speed when they read it.

"Please give that fantasy pet another shot."

Thais had been flustered, clearly at a loss for words, and for a moment Aphelios was scared he had done something terribly wrong.

"I can't- I can't accept this. You're not getting anything in return here, it doesn't feel right."

The Lunari considered for a moment, then respectfully took the loom from Thais' willing hands. With a tentative smile, he pointed at them, swiped his palm over the loom and tapped his own sternum.

You could teach me.

The two had spent that night crouching over the little loom together and passing it back and forth. While Aphelios quickly learned that weaving wasn't within his scope of talents, he found that it calmed him down. The vulnerability he felt, forced to work without his gloves, was remedied as much by the soothing sensation of the wool against his bare skin as by the sheer enthusiasm with which Thais explained, corrected, and instructed.  
They threw in their fair share of banter, teasing and sometimes laughing at his mishaps, but were always quick to follow up with praise and constructive criticism, noticeably wary not to hurt his feelings. Their love of the craft brimmed in every word they spoke.

Aphelios' eyes had long been itching by the time the last thread was adjusted and Thais showed him the proper knots to be tied before the tapestry could be taken off the loom. He barely noticed the soreness or understood what the Rakkor was trying to tell him, consumed by a sensation of pride that felt, for lack of a better term, sensible.  
Wonky as it was, Aphelios was looking at the tangible result of his very own creative effort.  
His teacher seemed to miraculously recognise both his doubts and satisfaction, and smiled warmly.

"I like it. I really do. Your technique is, well... one of a kind," they chortled, "but you put your heart into it, and I can see that."

Their fingers, pale but rosy, glid over the sea foam strung of silver thread, the same they had used for the crescent moon shining above the woolen waves.  
Then, they handed the tapestry to Aphelios, placing it on his open palm carefully as if handling something alive and fragile. Thais watched as he admired his handiwork.

"I think anyone could see it, if they cared to really look."

This time, it had been Aphelios who found himself bereft. If there were ways to express what he felt, words certainly weren't appropriate. He didn't have much to compare it to, either.

There were ways in which talking to Thais resembled talking to Alune. They were wildly different people and Aphelios couldn't with a clear conscience describe his feelings towards Thais as brotherly.  
But it was hard to miss even for him that both Alune and Thais cared, and that both made him laugh.  
It had taken Aphelios the better half of the past moon to realise Thais was doing it on purpose, and from then on, he appreciated tenfold every ironic comment, every little quip that the Rakkor peppered into their conversations, rewarding them with a smile - whenever he could muster one.

He was training again, the break dictated by his injuries violently cut short when the second shift scouting troupe had not returned. Aphelios remembered their leader's face, but not his name. When they were children, he had been a cheerful and boisterous boy, always making an effort to involve Phel in games of tag or ball, dragging his friend along with a grin on his face whenever Aphelios was too shy to take initiative himself. Back then, the guardians would still, at times, take their charge to secluded areas of nature closely outside the sanctum. He recalled the scent of grass and nightbloom flowers, the pride swelling in his chest when he found, hidden in the crook between the fragrant earth and a large, strangely twisted boulder, the most beautiful blossom he had ever seen - blue and cream intertwining on gently bowed petals, supported and adorned by subdued green foliage. When he focused, he could still conjure the smile of his friend when receiving the gift and the way it had made Phel smile as well.  
Soon after, Aphelios had been separated from the other children for his training, replacing sticks and flowers with blades and bandages for the scratches they left on bis young skin.  
Years later, he would at times see the boy, now a man, among the other warriors. His radiant laugh had given way to a mask no less stoic than Aphelios' own, and they had never spoken again.

Not even a name to remember his fallen friend.

They told him the moon was rising once more, that the time of the Lunari was drawing near, the promised salvation of their people, a second zenith for their faith that would eclipse the sun itself. As the clergy's exalted vows waxed, life within the sanctum continued to wane.

But there was Thais.

It had been one moon, and Aphelios no longer cried himself to sleep.

☽◯☾

  
It had been thirty days, and Thais was beginning to fade.

Night and day, jaded consciousness and heavy, dreamless sleep circled each other without end, so closely intertwined in their lethargic dance that at times it became hard to tell the dawn of one from the dusk of the other. There was little to no variety in the ever recurring sequence of getting out of bed, sorting oneself out, being escorted, putting away a shove, a kick or a spat insult, then getting to work. Weapon maintenance had not been much of an inconvenience at first - a pleasure, even. There was much to be learned from the unique traits and techniques of Lunari craftsmanship, some plainly readable on the object itself, others more elusive, and in being so, providing a welcome challenge for Thais, who was slowly but surely growing bored out of their mind.  
They should have been afraid instead, should have prepared for the onslaught of unwelcome and intrusive suggestions that filled the void left gaping when Thais had figured out how to most effectively polish the armory's equipment, and found that they had learned everything they could from studying its style and make without any additional references.

Within one and a half weeks - or so they guessed - they had worked themselves and their cleaning gear through the entire contents of the chamber, but no new task had been assigned to them.  
No amount of questioning, of insisting they be put to work somewhere their help was actually needed swayed the guard - not that this had been in any way unexpected. Ultimately, Thais had backed down, knowing all too well about their position to make demands.  
Ever since then, the young Rakkor had been horribly alone with their pointless work and an uncertainty of the future and present that ate at their sanity every waking second.

Except for when they were with Aphelios.

The Lunari had become their solace more quickly than Thais would usually have liked to admit - as things were now, they found pride in being able to hold onto a positive emotion for once.  
After a few nights in which he had payed them his supervision visit then stayed with them well beyond the necessities of his task, Thais had finally asked for the reason he was extending his time and kindness to them the way that he did. Clearly, he was special in some way, and Thais could only imagine him leading quite a busy life outside of checking up on them - and if no duty called, so they told him, certainly there were other people he liked to spend his time with.

Aphelios had gone quiet, and avoided their eyes for just long enough an instant that Thais understood.

The uncomfortable moment soon faded before the vibrant scenery they made of their shared nights. Teaching Aphelios to weave had in turn made Thais aware of yet another side to their captor turned confidante. More than one, really.

Thais couldn't explain why watching him work mesmerised them so, they only knew that it did.  
His bare hands, gracefully sculpted and speckled with scars, burns and blemishes, had been moving deftly and efficiently after only half an hour of practice with the loom. Violet arched just shy of his knuckles, raising the question of just how much of the Lunari's body was tattooed.  
Obviously motorically gifted and a fast learner, he handled the unfamiliar task with a precise dedication that hogged all of Thais' attention.  
Aphelios' brow was furrowed in concentration, but his dark eyes were burning with the kind of fire kindled only by fun. The craftsmanship itself was nothing to marvel at - but the sight of the Lunari enjoying himself was.  
It almost managed to distract Thais from the mental image of his hands against their skin, his thumb brushing their cheek, the warmth of his palm against their spine. Almost.  
Aphelios seemed as averse to touch as themselves, and so they pushed these thoughts, inappropriate as they were, as far out of reach as they could - which was not very far.

When he had visited them again a few nights later, he had once again been carrying something. Apart from the rarity of its material, the box was of relatively modest appearance that betrayed nothing about its contents, and Thais' purposefully inquiring glance earned no reward other than Aphelios gesturing for them to sit, the way he usually did.  
They adored this little ritual of theirs. Taking a seat was a promise, that, for a while, they would stay like this - next to each other on the floor.  
With care, the Lunari placed the box between them and opened its lid, revealing an assortment of flat stones, small enough to fit four of them in Thais' palm. Each one bore at least a single character in a script close enough to what was taught at the Solari temple that it was legible to the Rakkor.  
As Aphelios began rummaging through the container, they spotted single letters, shorter words and suffixes. Before they could think too much on the language, however, he had finished laying out his sequence and turned each pebble around so the words were facing Thais.

_How are you feeling, Thais?_

Four neatly assembled pebbles formed their name. Its sight perplexed the Rakkor, and they couldn't help but grin.

"I... Better now."

As sultry as it sounded, they weren't lying. His first words to them - concern for their well being, and their name.  
Aphelios' lips curled into the hint of a smile, then he broke eye contact to pick out a few more stones.

_I feel the same._

He felt the same?

"I'm glad to hear... no, read it."  
From now on, Aphelios would be able to speak his mind much more precisely, and the more they considered this, the more the anticipation in their chest began to swell.  
This was happening - they were talking!  
Smiling back at him, Thais gestured towards the stones, a dash of remaining awkwardness stiffening their movement.

"Those are very helpful. Did you have them all this time?"

_Yes. But they're rather cumbersome, so I don't keep them on me._

"Pretty, though." The varying greys of the stone were given an almost royal touch by the thin, elegant script.  
"Did you make them yourself?"

_Most of them were made by my sister, but I helped with some._

Something small and weighted fell into place in the back of Thais' head and left no room for them to think before they spoke.

"Alune?"

Aphelios, while clearly perplexed, nodded. The Rakkor gave a sheepish shrug.

"Intuition."

It was not. Hypatia had mentioned Aphelios and Alune in the same breath on the night of their arrival - the name Alune had not fallen since. When had their memory become so reliable?  
Click, click, went the stones.

_The first ones were a gift. After that, I carved and she painted._

Thais hummed in partial understanding. Their own brother and them had never really gotten up to anything comparable.  
"Out of curiosity, is your sister older or younger than you are?"

_We're twins._

That made sense, then.  
Their nod introduced a short interval of silence.  
Thais glimpsed the shift in Aphelios' eyes they by now understood betrayed a decision. They revered it - they had no choice. The Lunari reached for the stones again.

_Alune is a seer. The moon needs her far away from the sanctum._

"And what about you? Do you ever visit each other, or... does the moon need you here?"

There was another pause before Aphelios answered, long enough for Thais to notice the pristine condition of the pebble saying 'need' as he turned it between his nimble fingers. Next to the signs of usage the other stones were carrying, this one looked brand new.

_It's too far, and I'm needed here._

For a few heartbeats, the young man's hands laid still as his lowered eyes drifted well beyond the pebbles and the mass of stone underneath. Then, more slowly than before, he resumed his puzzle.

_I don't know if I will ever see her again._

Thais took a moment.  
"How far, exactly? I've been to most places on the slope, and I know the routes. I can guide you there." If I ever get out of here, they added to themselves. "Within a month, we could make it all the way to the border of the desert, or to the southern shores."

A storm raged just underneath Aphelios' skin, rippling the surface as his features stiffened for just a moment, then released. The corners of his mouth had gained an edge of tension, the midnight of his eyes had flooded with ink. Even the shadow of fatigue underneath them appeared darker.  
He said nothing.

"I'm... I'm sorry."  
The words seemed base, desecrating even, and Thais regretted them the moment they had left their mouth.  
Aphelios' movements were calm.

_Me too. But we were born to this burden._

"Yes... of course."

_You don't seem surprised. Is it similar for your people?_

"Not in general, but all twins are unlucky somehow, aren't they?"

Aphelios' eyebrows shot up and although his feelings demanded no further clarification, a lone pebble met the ground for pure emphasis.

_What?_

Now it was Thais' turn to frown in disorientation.

"You know. Because they're like the moon, a whole split in two."

They quickly realised that Aphelios didn't 'know.'  
He retreated into his coat and Thais wanted to slap themselves into oblivion. Cultural differences aside, the knot of pain tied to his twin had been bare to their eyes, so, why?  
Why?

Because this was what they did. People trusted them, and they let them down, over and over.

"I am... I'm so sorry. It's a dumb superstition, I... Please forgive me."

The Lunari shook his head, gently, quietly. Only the rustle of his collar accompanied his hollow reassurance, his features bleak with surrender.

_It's part of your faith. I won't condemn you for it._

"I-"

Thais choked on their words.  
Eloquence denied itself, left was only truth, the kind that you offered up with a piece of your soul and prayed to not get crushed on the altar.  
The idea terrified them, but not as much as the certainty that if they didn't make things right, Aphelios would leave.

"Faith or not, it can't be true. I know because I met you."  
How was this all they had?  
"You're... so much. I've only known you for a month, but I've learned so much from you already. Not enough, obviously," a bitter, desolate laugh, "but I mean it. You could never be just half."

Silence came and made itself at home.

Thais kept their head low, hiding the tears obscuring their vision, trying to blink them away as Aphelios reached for the stones once more. Six of them, this time.

_So now I'm a lot?_

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that, I..."

Aphelios' hand found their arm, a light touch, but its weight reassured them nonetheless. Thais' eyes followed along his arm, to his face. His full lips curled with the idea of a smile, his own eyes full of warmth.

"Are you... Teasing me?"

His smile broadened.

"I can't believe it."

His snicker was nearly inaudible, but Thais picked it from the air, hoping it would milden the lack of his touch as Aphelios straightened his back and shuffled away just enough to access the pebbles.

_It's alright. I wager not everything I was raised to believe about you surface dwellers is true either. I shouldn't have gotten carried away._

"Maybe... Maybe we could teach each other? I don't want to keep blurting out horrible things and only realise how bad they are after I've said them. Only if you want to, of course," they added with haste.

_Yes. I like that idea._

He had still been smiling at them from the other side of the stones.

For a while, after Aphelios had brought them the book, things had been more bearable. The thing was a downright tome, dense and heavy, dignity fastened to its dull navy cover with a large silver clasp, circular with two satellites sticking from the main ring which lent it a distinctly Lunari flair. Pressed between its paper, a whole other world.  
From descriptions of underground nutritional resources to a guide on when to observe which seasonal constellation with just a narrow patch of sky, the book concerned itself with life around, and especially inside, the mountain.  
Aphelios had told them he had borrowed it from the archives, and that he would vouch for them as long as it took to read through it, but Thais still brought the book into bed every morning, devouring page after page well into the day. The nights they had spent on their own in the armory had been less lonely in anticipation of the next and next and next chapter infallibly awaiting them in their quarters. On the increasingly rare occasion that Aphelios found the time to pay them a visit, the two of them talked. Sometimes they discussed the tome, like the chapter on the mysterious seafolk native to the southern waters, a myth at best to most Rakkor, but a fact of life to Thais, who swore to have seen one as a young child. Sometimes, they answered the questions Aphelios laid into stone for them, about climbing techniques and traditional lullabies and what kind of food went well with tamu cheese. On occasion, he connected a word to a set of gestures Thais quickly understood made up his own little language, which he was now teaching them.  
Last time, to spell something out for him, he had even let them use the pebbles.

Still - all things had to end.

The future they had dreaded inevitably arrived with a soft sigh and a quiet rustle as they turned the last page, all too soon. With the book fallen silent, the world had begun to dull again, their work becoming senseless toil and their mind a battlefield, as if nothing at all had changed.  
Nothing but the presence of the book, which they could not bear to let go of, against their better judgement.  
They kept it on their night stand, always within reach to run their fingers over the reassuringly coarse leather and remember the light in Aphelios' eyes as Thais had accepted his gift with their first genuine smile in days.

They wanted desperately to tell him the truth, that it had been them who helped saved his life that night, to see his beautiful face bloom with surprise and know that all his time and thought and care had been given freely, not to pay off some debt.

Even now, a part of Thais stubbornly maintained the hole for some miraculous escape that would free them from the sanctum and bask their body and soul in the sun once more.  
The same part desired nothing more than to take Aphelios with them.   
They knew, of course, that even if they offered, he would never follow - his place was here with his people, and although Thais could never have faulted him for that, the ache beneath their ribs cursed their affection for him.  
Aphelios was also part of the reason for their captivity, but they remained grateful to him. Thais would have given their freedom for their life any day - but they were beginning to realise that with time, the latter could not persist without the first.

Deeper within themselves, within the hope for escape, slept a darker truth, a primal need for nothing beyond plain control of their own fate.  
With Aphelios' visits growing more scarce and their last memories of home beginning to fade in the tides of loneliness and inescapable repetition, the need had grown teeth and tongue, and with every day, it became harder and harder to gag.

A knife was a knife. It would obey its wielder, even if the flesh they made it cut was their own.

It had been thirty days, and Thais was nearing the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this simmering for a while - originally it was supposed to be the first half of chapter 3, but this thing is 4000 words on its own, so I decided to take my time and move the rest of the plot into its own chapter. Hope you enjoy this one, and thank you, as always, for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys and thank you for reading through this! I didn't think I would post it (since it's a pretty shameless self insert) but it turns out I rather enjoy writing this fic and my friends are all pretty hyped about it, too. Please let me in on your thoughts in the comments, and have a nice day! <3
> 
> A fun fact for your trouble: "thais" is old greek and means "bandage" or "beloved."
> 
> If you wanna check out my art (including Aphelios stuff), you can find me on:
> 
> tumblr (https://the-flying-beetle.tumblr.com/)  
> instagram (https://www.instagram.com/the_flying_beetle/)  
> deviantart (https://www.deviantart.com/the-flying-beetle)
> 
> And if you wanna check out my League blog: https://leagueofbullshit.tumblr.com/


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